Distant Minds Ch. 04

That evening Sabbina once more settled into the bed in the mirrored pyramid. As she sipped her drink and ate the magic mushrooms Peter attached the electrodes to her head. 'If they've registered nothing unusual so far it would seem they are a waste of time,' she said

'No way. Even a lack of evidence tell us something. . . . . And have you decided on where and when you will concentrate tonight?'

'I thought to make it as different as I could and try for the early days of the American wild west.'

'Good idea. . . . Right that's done,' he grinned, 'Sweet dreams.'

She settled back and closed her eyes ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Clint went to feed the horses, a brief breeze swept through the door of their sod cabin and struck chill on Rose's bare, damp skin. With a quick shudder she slowly started dressing, her mind reviewing the events of the past hour - the feel of his warm flesh on her body, his palms weighing her breasts, his finger tips hardening her nipples, his lips exploring the satin of her inside thighs and, finally the tight grasp of her cunni squeezing his seed from him. It had been pleasant, it had filled a need, but what had become of the joy, the ecstasy, she was supposed to feel.

She gazed idly out of the meagre window to where the early morning mist covered the plain, hiding the distant mountains and confined their universe to a few hundred yards. She'd clearly made a mistake. Was it in choosing to marry? Using him as her escape from an overbearing preacher father. But she'd had little option, since he was the best of a poor selection. Maybe, in time, she would come to respect him, even love him, but for now she was unsatisfied. It might, after all, have been better to wait and hope for a real man to come along.

Or possibly her error was in insisting that he whisk her straight from the wedding onto the stagecoach and out west to this isolated homestead. She was finally free from her father's evangelistic fervour, but at what a price. Already, after only a month, the prospect of a future of lonely drudgery was more than she could bear. She accepted that life was also hard for him, especially compared to the ease of his clerk's job back east. But he was young, not as young as her, but young enough to adapt. His muscles were hardening already.

She watched him stride toward the barn, the bucket of feed heavy on one arm, the other holding his gun - though he carried that more in hope of a rabbit than any expectation of needing it; cougars were scarce; Indians long gone to reservations; they owned nothing to tempt bandits. He turned the corner of the barn.

A figure moved out of the shadows, its Colt a dull gleam. 'Sonny, get his gun.' A second figure moved from behind the barn door, reached down, and snagged the rifle.

The one with the six shooter was tallish, raw-boned, with a couple of days of dusty greying stubble decorating his chin. The other, Sonny, was a mere stripling, barely her age of eighteen.

'Who's in the cabin?' The voice was husky from long hours on the trail.

'Only my wife.' Clint was nervous.

'Good. Lead the way. Sonny you help Dan.' He gestured with the Colt for Clint to start back to the cabin.

As they turned a third figure shuffled from the barn. This one was three or four years older than Clint and, like the other two, covered in trail dust. He carried his left arm in a makeshift sling liberally spotted with dried blood.

Menaced by the gun Clint started back to the cabin. If he hadn't been so occupied using her, Rose thought, he might have heard their horses. Though she doubted he could have done anything, he was - had been - a clerk, not a fighter.

As they entered she stared at them, green eyes wide, her fists tightly clasping the cloth of her pinafore.

'Good day to you, Mam.' The leader removed his Stetson with his left hand revealing grizzled, greying hair.

'I'm sure sorry to bother you, but Dan here got hiself shot by the posse, and we need to rest a while. Also we sure could do with some coffee and a flapjack or two. If yew would kindly oblige.' He glanced at Sonny, 'Take your eyes off her - yew've seen a skirt afore. Go find some rope. I can't stand here all day with my gun on this one.'

'But she sure is purty. Reckon I can't wait to get a piece of that.'

'Yew'll wait for as long as I say. Now get him roped up.'

They all just stood while Sonny found a hank of rope and hog-tied Clint - first binding his ankles together then stringing them up behind him and roping them to his hands. Unable to move he was laid on the dirt floor, against the wall.

'What about that grub, Mam.' Tad reminded her as he took off his long leather coat and chaps.

Rose turned to the stove, her auburn hair trailing, still tousled, to her waist. Briskly she fastened it back with a scrap of ribbon, her fingers combing out the worst of the tangles that had been created as Clint took her. Would she have to endure that Sonny between her legs; she trembled at the thought.

The one they called Dan only had coffee - his wound was obviously troubling him - but the other two ate as if they had been on short rations awhile.

Afterwards Tad looked at Rose, 'Where d'yew keep the whisky?'

'We don't. You'll find no demon drink in this house.' It might have been her preacher father speaking.

'Is that so. Well Sonny, I reckon yew'all are due a walk. Go look in my saddle bag. There's a bottle of tequila I been saving. Don't yew drink none, it's for Dan here. We gotta get that bullet out.' He stretched and meeting Dan's eyes said, 'Yew ready fur it?'

'As much as I ever will be. It's got to be done, but don't hurry, wait till the drink gets me.' His tone was low with an educated slant.

Sonny returned with two bottles. 'You're not alone in keeping a spare.'

'Give one to Dan. Don't yew touch the other till we be finished. . . . Mam, get me a bowl of hot water and a sharpening stone.'

When Rose took the steaming bowl to the table he was sharpening a hunting knife on the stone while Dan was guzzling one of the bottles of tequila. Sonny sat, his chair tilted back, tracking her with lascivious eyes.

'Here let me do it. I helped the local doctor for a while,' she offered; anything to keep occupied and away from Sonny.

'What yew reckon, Dan?'

Dan mumbled vaguely; the drink had worked quickly on his empty stomach.

'Sonny, grab his legs. We'll put him on the bed.'

Tad and Sonny lifted Dan and laid him on the edge of the double bed.

'Sit him up while I take off his shirt.' Rose told them. Together they propped Dan against the bed head. Gently she removed the sling and then the black wool shirt to expose the blood-caked wound. Carefully she washed the blood away.

'Knife,' she held out her hand. Tad gave her the sharpened blade.

'Tequila,' she took the bottle from Sonny, who was looking to drink a few ounces, and poured some over the blade.

'Why you wasting good licker?' Sonny demanded.

Rose ignored him as she carefully probed the entry hole till she felt the bullet. 'Not very deep,' she observed.

'Naw, reckon it was a ricochet,' Tad said.

'You awake?' she pinched Dan's cheek. The only reply was a drunken snore.

'Right, hold him tight.' Rose carefully worked the knife under the lead and eased it to the surface amidst a flow of fresh blood. 'There it is,' she dropped the bullet into the bowl of water. 'Now put a pad over the hole and hold it till the bleeding stops.'

Tad lowered Dan to lie flat along the side of the bed and pressed the cloth to his shoulder. Rose collected the bowl of now bloody water and Dan's shirt. Sonny followed her and, taking advantage of her loaded hands, pinched her ass then put his arms round her and grasped her breasts.

'Take your hands off my wife,' Clint shouted.

'Come and stop me,' Sonny taunted the roped figure by the wall.

Tad was annoyed. 'Sonny! I warned yew. Keep yer hands off her till I say yer can. Now go and feed the horses.'

'What yew waiting fur?' Sonny stormed angrily out of the cabin.

'Thank you,' Clint said.

'Yew keep yur mouth shut or I'll gag yew. She'll be fucked as and when I say.' Tad turned to the bed. 'Come here . . . Rose.' Together they looked at Dan. 'He should be able to ride in a few days,' Tad opined, then turned and studied her. 'Now take that dress off.'

Rose just stared at him uncertainly.

'Yew don't want me to rip it off, do yew?'

Reluctantly she unfastened her pinafore, reached behind her and unbuttoned her gingham dress, then pulled it up over her head.

'Now yur shift.'

Slowly she also pulled that over her head. He moved close and gently swept her long hair back over her shoulders exposing her ripe young breasts. Taking one and weighing it in his palm, his thumb traced its upper curve and then its large firm point. He felt her nipple rise and harden. His hands dropped to the string of her drawers, untied them, and pulled them down to her ankles.

Naked she stood shivering before him. It was wrong, she had a husband, she should resist him. But Clint was only half a man, this Tad might be a villain but he was also a real man - her body lusted for him.

He lifted and placed her, naked, alongside Dan who snored drunkenly, the pad on his wound held in place by his belt. She watched as Tad slipped his suspenders from his shoulders and lowered his pants. Clint, unable to intervene, closed his eyes.

As Tad mounted her, she eagerly raised her knees and opened her legs. With one hand she traced the lips of her cunni to check that she was wet enough to accept him, with the other felt for his tool to prepare him. As he sucked her buds and his unshorn cheeks prickled her tits, her hand closed round his shaft. She was surprised how small it was - it made Clint's cock seem big. She rubbed him until she felt he could grow no longer then guided him inside. She took all of him yet still felt half empty. As he slid in and out she clenched her pussy muscles without avail. He seemed barely to have started when his sperm burst within her. All too soon he pulled out and rolled off. She felt cheated and unsatisfied, after all her expectations of a real fuck she'd hardly been aroused, she'd had no orgasm - was this the best she could expect?

As he stood pulling up his pants the cabin door opened and Sonny returned.

'Please, not him,' Rose begged.

'Tough, Missy. I can only control him a piece. Anyways his bite ain't nearly so bad as his bark. He only ever hurt one skirt that I knowd of, and she be somewhat young and don't tell him he's her first.'

He looked at Sonny. 'Those horses awright?'

'Yus, I turned them out to graze. They be all tuckered out, but I reckon they should be right for that job tomorer.'

'We'll have to talk about that. Be tricky without Dan along. Anywise yew get your oats first, then we'll plan. She be really something that one, ain't enjoyed me a skirt so much in years.'

Sonny sauntered to where Rose lay, a blanket wrapped round her. He started to pull the cloth from her, but she gripped its edge tightly. After a brief tug he let go and lightly slapped her face, 'Don't yew make me angry, yew can't win.'

Rose realised she couldn't stop him, better just to go passive and let him do what he wanted - get it over with; if she fought him he could hurt her even more. She relaxed her grip and he swiftly stripped the cover from her.

He contemplated her naked form for several long moments, 'Dang me if that aint the purtiest pussy I ever did see.'

Without taking his eyes from her body he shed his chaps and pants, then forcefully pinned her to the bed and climbed on top of her. Instinctively she clamped her long legs together, but he gripped her knees and pulled her thighs apart, knelt between them and nudged her entrance with his cock. He pushed her legs wider then, heedless as to whether she was wet, held her spread and forced his way in. Rose cried out at the sudden pain.

'Like it, don't you bitch?' he asked as he pulled part way out then quickly thrust home, completely filling her. Fortunately she was still damp from Tad. Soon he built up a rhythm, sheathing and unsheathing his whole length in her. To her surprise she was enjoying him, his cock did feel good in her cunni; she moaned and pushed back at him on each stroke.

Tad leant back in the rocking chair. 'Ride her cowboy.'

'Oh, God. Yes, yes, yes.' Rose was moaning now as she approached her climax, while Sonny rammed her harder, his breath coming in short gulps. Fervently she tightened her cunni, grasping and squeezing his tool. Suddenly, noisily, they came together.

He lay on top of her for a while recovering. She wanted to thank him, it had been better than anything her husband had given her, but she kept quiet; it might encourage him and would definitely upset Clint who, though trying to ignore her ravishing, must have heard her cries of pleasure.

Dressed again Sonny sat on the side of the bed .

Later there was quiet for a space as, temporarily satisfied, Tad and Sonny drowsily drank and rested, Dan gently snored while Rose, wrapped in an old, woollen robe, busied herself tidying the dishes before preparing another pot of coffee.

With a deep groan Dan stirred and opened his eyes. 'Hades, my head,' he said.

Dan carefully moved it a fraction. 'Sore, but no great pain. Give me a couple of days and I can try the trail.'

'But what about the plan for tomorer?' Sonny asked Tad.

'Don't knows as if we can have one,' he replied. 'Timing would be ideal. Hit the bank agin while the posse's still out hunting us. But it's a three man job. Two inside and one to hold the horses and keep watch. But Dan here aint fit to ride so there's only us two.'

'I could hold the horses.' Clint said.

'You'll do no such thing.' Rose was furious. 'You think you can rob a bank and come back here as if nothing's happened. They'll catch up with you anyway.'

'Wouldn't come back here. I've had this farming shit. Reckon I'd take me to the West Coast.'

'And what about me?'

'And what about you? You can come if you wish. If not I can find me another gal in Angeles, you're all the same in the sack.'

'You're no great catch yourself. Look at you, roped up like some steer. You're just bitter because I didn't struggle to stop Tad and Sonny having me.

'Whoa! You two,' Tad intervened. 'I haven't said we would take you.'

'Why don't we?' Sonny said. 'It's simple enough.'

Tad considered Clint for a while. 'Okay, you're on. Once Dan's fit to ride he can meet up with us at . . . Redtop Rock.' He turned to Dan 'Reckon yew can find that?'

Dan thought. 'Guess so.'

'But the horses aint rested yet.' Sonny said.

'I knows that but if we take it real easy till dark, then come the morning they should be recovered, and we only have a short ride to town. Means we can get there early and scout the bank for a whiles.'

Tad went over to Clint and untied the rope. 'Yew've got time for one for the road, if you want her. Dan keep your eye on him, see he don't back out. Cummon Sonny, lets go and saddle up.' Without a backward glance they left, slamming the door behind them.

Clint rose stiffly to his feet. As he stretched his cramped muscles he reflectively looked Rose up and down.

'No you don't.' She said. 'You go with them, then you don't get to jump my bones again.'

'Who wants to? You never were much good in the sack. Reckon I'll find me one that's nice and tight when I gets to the coast.' He paused. 'On the other hand that could be a whiles, so I reckon I just might give you a going away present.'

Still tight muscles making him a little clumsy he stepped toward her. Rose backed away toward the stove and clutched an iron skillet. As he got close she raised it threateningly. With a sudden lunge he grabbed and twisted her arm causing her to drop the heavy metal. Still gripping her he dragged her to the bed and pushed her onto it.

Holding her down with one hand he unfastened his belt and dropped his jeans. Lifting her robe he forced her thighs apart and positioned his cock at her slit. As he drove into her she reached beneath him, grabbed his balls and squeezed hard. He shrieked.

Keeping a tight grip she slid off his cock and wriggled out from under him.

'What the Hades?' Dan exclaimed.

'You keep out of this,' Rose told Dan.

She looked at Clint whose face was grey and contorted with pain. 'What an apology for a husband. Get another woman. Huh, you've no idea how to treat one. Not once have you satisfied me. Get out, I've done with you.'

She dodged the half swing he threw at her and squeezed his gonads harder. He whimpered with pain. Abruptly she let go. 'Get out! I never want to see you again.'

Gingerly he crouched and pulled up his pants. Dan looked at him and picked up his Colt. 'Don't think of it, just get going.'

All was quiet following Clint's departure; Dan just sat nursing his sore shoulder while Rose stared into space and wondered what she would do now she was alone.

After a while Dan said, 'Some food would be nice.'

Rose stirred and began unthinkingly to tidy the cabin, feed the stove, and fill the coffee pot. 'There's only flapjacks, or maybe a plain omelette,' she told him.

'Doesn't matter. Anything to fill the hole behind my belt.'

She watched him as he struggled one-handed to eat the food. Should she help him? Cut it into bite-sized pieces he could easily spoon up? No, he had his pride. Though he didn't seem as rough and simple as Tad and Sonny. 'How come you ride with them two?' She asked.

'Long story,' he said. 'I was doing okay playing the tables on the river boats back east, when I made the mistake of cleaning out a high rolling gambler called Duke O'Leary. He took it bad and with a few chums rigged a game, then accused me of cheating. I was lucky to get away in one piece. I rode west, but my stake was soon running low since no-one wanted to have a hand of cards with me - reckon they had me pegged as a professional. Which, of course, I am. Then I met up with those two and it seemed they offered the only way to recoup my fortunes. Hasn't turned out too well.'

'Didn't think you was quite like them,' she said. 'You can stay awhile, if you wants. With that apology of a husband gone I'll need a man around the place.'

'Not my scene. The Good Lord made me a gambler. I need the kick, the excitement. I'll take it kindly if I can rest up a day or so then I'll head out to the West Coast. . . . . You can ride along if you want.'

She suddenly realised he was offering her a way out of the toil and drudgery that a few hours ago was all she had to look forward to. 'What other choice do I have?'

'Can't promise you high fashion crinolines, though I'll do my best. Perhaps having you as my woman will change my luck. . . . Is there any of that tequila left for a toast to us?'

'You know I don't believe in it?'

'I understand, but don't get extreme. It's all right in moderation. You need to know thine enemy. Come, just one won't hurt you.'

'If you insist.'

'Good, that's my Rose, my 'Tequila Rose'. Now let's see how well we suit each other.' He put his good arm round her, his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. His lips found hers, gently at first then with increasing urgency. Instinctively she parted her lips and felt his tongue enter and explore her mouth. He felt a need in her, a desire not just to be entered but to be loved and reassured. He plastered her face with little kisses, the damaged arm in its sling pressed hard against her firm boobs.